lay down your sweet and weary head
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: "I'm sorry." :: Harry and Ginny, after the Battle of Hogwarts.


Swimming Lessons Assignment: Butterfly - Write about being exhausted.

Writing Club: Assorted Inspiration 1: Klaus Baudelaire - Write about an orphan, Disney Challenge: Character 1: **Mulan** \- write about someone making a sacrifice for their family, Showtime 18: Dyin' Ain't So Bad (Reprise): (word) relief, Liza's Lyrics 4: Five - Keep On Movin' - "But I know things will be alright in the end", Lo's Lowdown 6: Plot point: PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), Bex's Basement 13: "Happy endings don't exist. Life just doesn't suck as much for certain periods of time." , Film Festival 27: [Dialogue] "I missed you.", Oliver Wood's Quidditch Training Camp, Level 1 - 7: Lunges - Harry Potter must be the main character, Pop Figure Collection Club: Ginny Weasley - Gryffindor Ginny - (Prompt) Write about a Gryffindor.

_Word count:_ 1025

* * *

Ginny finds him on top of the Astronomy tower, sitting where Dumbledore had died last year. Has it only been one year? It feels like more.

His legs hang over the ledge, heels tapping against the rough stone and Harry breathes out slowly. He's heard her come, of course he has, but he doesn't turn around. He breathes in and swallows past the ache in his chest, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

The sun is going down, painting the sky in golds and reds. It almost looks pretty.

"I missed you."

He doesn't turn at the familiar voice, but his eyes prickle. The ache in his chest grows. "I missed you too."

Ginny's clothes rustle as she sits down next to him, knocking their shoulders together. "You'd better," she replies with a scoff. She sniffles, just a little, and Harry's throat goes tight. He doesn't dare turn around.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…" His words fail him. There are too many things he's sorry for — if he starts now, Harry doesn't know when he'll stop.

_If_ he'll stop.

"Merlin, I'm so sorry. For... For everything."

"I thought you were _dead,"_ Ginny replies, her tone biting. Harry flinches away from her, but Ginny's hand finds his and she hangs onto it, her grip so tight her fingernails bite into his palm. It stings, but Harry welcomes the pain that cuts through the tired haze fogging his mind. _"We_ all thought you were dead."

"I know," Harry replies, and the words tear themselves from his throat like a blade, leaving him feeling bloody and raw. He tastes copper as he struggles to swallow, his eyes falling to Ginny's hand, still in his. "I never meant to... I didn't want to..." _die,_ he doesn't finish, because hadn't he?

_Hadn't he?_

He was so tired — he still _is, _now, in a way that makes the fall of the tower look welcoming.

His heart stutters in his chest and he suddenly shakes his head, his eyes finally landing on Ginny so he doesn't have to look _down._

"I'm sorry," he tells her again. His eyes sting and his vision blur, but she's still the most alive thing he's ever laid eyes on. Her hair is matted with dirt and blood, her face is pale as ash and her eyes are red, but Merlin, she looks so _alive_ it almost hurts.

"I don't — I," he stutters. "This was supposed to be over. Killing Voldemort was supposed to _fix_ things." And it had — it _had,_ is the worst thing. He — _they_ had stopped the war

So why doesn't he feel better? Why does he still feel so _tired?_

He doesn't realize he's spoken out loud until Ginny's replying.

"I think that happy endings don't exist." She shrugs, a wry smile playing on her lips as she looks at him. "Life just doesn't suck as much for certain periods of time."

Despite himself, Harry snorts. "That's cheerful."

"You're the one who asked," Ginny retorts, her eyes darkening. She gestures at the ruined battlefield below them. "Does this look 'happy' to you? Do you _feel _happy?"

Harry doesn't need to answer that — she already knows he doesn't.

Ginny scoffs, though her glare gentles a little. "Thought not."

Harry thinks about the sight he'd seen earlier — the Weasleys, gathered around Fred's body. It hurts and he presses his eyes shut. What must it have been like for them, to think him dead so soon after that? To know that he'd done it to himself, that he'd wanted to...

_No._ Harry hadn't wanted to — he'd had to. That's different.

It had to be.

It _has_ to be.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, mostly because he doesn't know what else to be right now. "I didn't mean to —"

"Make us all think you were dead again?"

Harry flinches.

"Because we did, you know," Ginny continues, her tone ruthlessly steady, each word a dagger carefully aimed at his soul. Her grip on his hand is still tight enough to make his bones grind together, but Harry wants her to never let go. "Some people still do."

"Do you?" The words slip out before he can hold them back, and when Ginny's face turns incredulous, Harry feels his cheeks heat up. "Right, stupid question. You're here."

"I'm here." Ginny nods.

"And you're... mad at me?"

"Furious," Ginny corrects, and while Harry winces, he also can't help the surge of affection that swells in his chest.

"If I say I'm sorry, will you curse me?"

Ginny eyes him for a long moment, during which Harry holds his breath. "No," she finally says. Her lips twitch up into a smirk, reopening the split on her lower lip. "But I might push you off this tower."

"Please don't."

"No promises."

It feels odd to laugh. It drags itself out of his chest like shards of jagged glass, but more of the fog lifts. Harry feels less like a tired ghost, haunting this tower, and more like...

Well, more like someone who might want to figure out what happens next.

He sighs. "We should go... find everyone," he says, swallowing past his dry throat. _Ron, Hermione, the rest of the Weasleys... Neville and Luna, and the DA, and..._ Harry's thoughts catch as the list of people he wants to see goes on and on. His next breath shakes as he pushes himself up, suddenly filled with the nervous need to _see_ them.

Suddenly, he needs to go.

He offers Ginny a hand up, but she rolls her eyes and bats it away, standing up in so smooth a gesture Harry's knees go a little weak.

"_Finally_," she says, already pushing her way past him. "Come on, everyone's waiting for you, and Mum'll go spare if she doesn't see you soon."

Guilt threatens to drown him — Merlin, had he really forgotten about everyone who'd seen him die only moments ago? — but another sharp look from Ginny has him swallowing it back and squaring his shoulders.

He smiles, and to his surprise, it doesn't feel entirely fake.

"Lead the way," he says, and follows.


End file.
